Lead and Gold
by uwishgottalovethis
Summary: Edward and Bella are two people who fall in love with each other in early-20th-century Chicago. But when Edward contracts a serious case of influenza, what will Bella do if Dr. Cullen cannot save him... and have him be as normal as he was before? R&R plz
1. Chapter 1

Lead and Gold

Chapter 1: _An Interesting Walk in the Park_ by Bella

_Hmph_, I thought to myself, as I continued to unwillingly walk with Edward Masen as my mother watched after us happily, yet obliviously.

"You don't seem to be enjoying my company much," Edward commented disinterestedly.

"To be honest, I'm not, but the last thing I need is to have my mother throw a fit."

Edward gave an empty chuckle. "We seem to be in agreement. Won't our parents be overjoyed that we finally have something in common?"

"Mm-hmm." The conversation kind of died then. The wind blew my plain brown hair out of its simple hair barrette that kept it off my face. I moved the whisps of hair out of my face. I was thankful for the wind, because it was like a genre of nature's music, and it gave me something to listen to when Edward said nothing, not that I ever particularly enjoyed listening to him anyway. Edward and I, well... you see... well, we just had nothing in common, other than the fact that our parents, well that is to say, his parents and my mother and step-father, had planned us to be together since we were just children.

Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Isabella Swan, (Bella for short) and I'm _just_ seventeen. I have known Edward Masen since I was seven. Ten long years of slow realization of what was to come. Its not like we had never gotten along, it's just that we were never interested in each other, like perfect strangers walking opposite ways in a park. In fact, that's exactly what we were: strangers, only we were unfortunately tossed together in one-way traffic. Next stop? Most likely a bench where we could be spared the awkwardness of being alone by being out in the open, in the middle of Chicago.

My father is a police officer in the lesser areas of Chicago. He and my mother ran away from New York to elope and lived in the dingier regions of Chicago for five years. Mother slowly became resentful, however, of her new life, and, as her attention span is the size of a peanut, she immediately rechanneled it towards Philip, Mr. Step-father. I have nothing against Philip, other than the fact that he broke up my family. Charlie, my kind, loving father, whom I love dearly but don't see often, is still living in that tenement house on Turner Street.

Philip, a well-known attorney, loved my mother dearly, and she him, but I have never forgiven them for what they did to Charlie. I mean—its so pathetic that I even call him "Charlie," because I never see him enough to call him "dad" and the only thing I ever hear him referred to as in our house (no, not home) is "Charlie." Stupid habits….

The only thing that has come out of this arrangement is that Mother is happy, and I have a very good life, materialistically speaking. The only thing I lack is a mother who thinks about people's feelings rather than their social standing, and a father nearby. I still sneak out whenever I can, but with "afternoon teas, balls, coming-out parties, and luncheons with those delicious cucumber 

sandwiches" (as my mother would say oh so enthusiastically, too enthusiastically for common sense) I never have the time. Its not like I want to do it, I don't really have choice. When I was fourteen, I told Mother that I wouldn't go to another tea, because I had taken enough of that crap. Shocked at my use of language, she fainted and when she came to with the aid of smelling salts, (big load of rubbish in my opinion. I've seen and heard quite a bit for my age and haven't swooned yet) she began to sob her heart out about how I was letting her down and blahblahblah. It was heart-wrenching, and even though we had absolutely nothing in common, I still loved her for all her faults. Strange, how family love works that way.

Well, now back to my thrilling walk with Edward. The wind continued to make my hair dance along my face and neck. I devoted my thoughts to nature, and how soothing and calming it was. The sun almost never shone here: the smoke and gaseous waste of the factories saw to that, and blocked the only thing that truly gave me energy, for I was always calm on cloudy days. Sunny days were a different story. I'll let you know what happens next time there is one.

Left, right, left, right. Two sets of feet walking simultaneously and in perfect rhythm the exact same way. I tripped on something so as to break the rhythm of our steps. It kept things remotely interesting. It's another one of those stupid habits: conveniently being clumsy.

"Are you alright?" Edward asked, catching my hand and looking at me with…was that a look of genuine concern?

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," I gave him a reassuring but empty smile. His face became as emotional as a blank slate again. I studied it for a second. I often did this to other acquaintances, and I'm fairly certain they were always wondering why I was staring at them with a quizzical and curious expression on my face. Oh, there he goes, he glanced at me. I blinked. His eyes were a stunning green, and he really was handsome. I always had wondered why my "friends" were always talking about Edward Masen and giggling whenever he walked by. I guess I'd just always thought of him as a awkward teenager just like me, but when I took a good look at him, his features were well developed and handsome. In fact, I had never seen anyone with such passion behind those green irises as he did, and that was part of the aura about him.

Nah, he's just another boy.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked curiously.

Ahhhh, time to snap back to present. "I'm trying to see who you really are." Hey, at least I was being honest.

"Found anything interesting?"

"I have several interesting theories about you."

"Pray tell, what are they?"

"I'll let you know if they're true."

I could hear him sigh.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: _What am I thinking?_ by Edward

Well, where to start?

Isabella Swan has got to be one of the most complex people I know, yet I don't really know her.

I have never held neither affection nor hatred for her. She was always just there, just another ordinary person in my life. She still is actually, aside from the fact that someday we will be married. When I first figured this out, I was not at all pleased:

_"I'm going to marry Isabella Swan?!" I shouted in disbelief and anger. It's like my parents don't think I can make my own decisions._

_"Yes, you are," they said calmly._

_I stormed out of Father's office, grabbed a hat and coat, and went to the park. It was a cold winter's evening, and snow fell into ever-growing mounds of white powder, glittering in the lamplight. As I reached the little tunnel of the pathway that was beneath a canopy of half white branches, I looked both ways, and ducked into a small opening between the trees. My feet had beaten down the path well, so there were no dead plants poking through, only whiteness. Three hundred yards, and I'm home. Yes, I said home. _

_I reached the clearing that was my safe haven, the only place I could really rethink my purpose in life. Why did I just say rethink? I mean _think_! I sat down on the only patch of ground left with color, and sighed, watching the cloud emit from my nose and mouth. Just as I'd let my mind settle, I heard a twig crack. I whipped my head around to see who it was intruding on my solitary time. All I saw was a pair of bright blue eyes._

_"Who is that?" I called to the only other bit of life around me._

_"Who are you?" a girlish voice asked. She seemed very timid._

_I hesitated. "It's okay, I won't harm you," I said soothingly. _

_It was her turn to hesitate. "Who are you?" she repeated._

_"I'm Edward Masen. Who are you?"_

_She finally came out from behind that tree. She was warmly but humbly dressed, and she couldn't have been more than seven or eight. Her hair was beautiful and blonde, and she had such a sad innocence, like that only just used to life's trouble. "Rosalina."_

_"What are you doing here?" I asked her gently. _

_And so the conversation began. She told me I could call her Rosalie, and that she, too, was seeking a place to be alone. I told her of my problem, of marrying a girl I had known but didn't really know, and how I was being forced into this by my parents. She told me of her problem, of her father _

_losing all his money when the stocks went down, so her family lived in a lower class circle. I have never cared for the class system. We continued talking, and we were completely honest with each other, the kind of honesty that makes you feel like you're letting off pressure. _

_The clock tower struck 11:45, and I realized that my parents would be worried about me. She said that hers were probably already worrying. So we dashed off home. But I never forgot her, and I hope she never forgot me. She had really helped me to think not just about my problems, but about those of others, and so I decided right then and there to devote my life to helping others, and not worry about my own problems. It was the best way to sooth myself and to stimulate my compassion for others._

I often traveled back to that little secret clearing in the park, just to see if I ever saw Rosalie again. I couldn't help but wonder what had become of her, and if she had gotten her life straightened out. I know I hadn't, but I was still working on that.

Now, back to Bella. I was not looking forward to marrying her. I would rather marry someone I could love, but seeing as this could not be the case, I try to make the best of it. I often wonder what wheels were turning behind the simple yet expressive brown eyes, and what her problems were. I wondered if I could help her. I genuinely cared for her, but not in the way that our parents would think optimal. I cared for her as a person, not as a fiancée or lover. The only thing was preventing me from trying to get to know her better was that she would not allow herself to get to know me, so whenever we went to walk, I sometimes tried to make conversation, but she never really helped it along. She was just there, and I was just there, like strangers.

Destiny is strange.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: _The Light and The Darkness_ By Bella

I lay awake, staring at the dark ceiling, and flashes of white light reveal the only blue sky within miles… with fat little cherubs painted all over it. It was three in the morning, and I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since the storm broke out over Chicago.

Another flash of blinding light, followed shortly by a loud crack, pulsated through my body. To me, there was a certain significance to what was going on: the cherub inhabited sky represented the fantasy that  
I -- no-- we lived in ("we" as in all of us little socialites, whether we liked it or not) and the storm represented all that we were missing. All the danger, risk, and adventure, all the things that I wished constituted something in my life. I don't know what I'm living for now. At this point, it seems like my parents, but I can't really be sure.

Suddenly, my eyes were blinded by a bolt of lightening closer than usual, and my ears were deafened by a crack so loud it sounded as though the sky had broken and was falling in on me. My eyes quickly readjusted to the dark, and I rolled over, staring at the opposite wall. One more flash of lightening, and something strange happened on this one. I saw the shadow of a tall man on my wall, projected from the window, and then it disappeared. Startled, I looked over at my window, and there was nothing there.

Slowly, cautiously, and hesitantly, I got up, and walked toward the window. My long, white nightgown made me look like a ghost, my pale skin blending in, and my hair looking darker than usual. I probably looked like the walking dead, but, hey, no one was looking right?

I approached the tall window, unlocked it, and the wind forced it to swing open, almost hitting me. The rain came pelting in, making my ghostly floor-length nightgown just a sheer piece of cloth, rippling in the wind. Down below me, and across the street, a tree stood on fire, bright sparks flying and being drowned by the cool rain.

I leaned out the window, and on the roof of the house next door, I saw a man, staring at the fire, clothes drenched to where they molded to his muscular body. I couldn't see his face, but I could feel his penetrating stare as he changed the direction of his stare towards me.

The next think I knew it was quite bright in my room. I woke up, my eyes feeling swollen and red from lack of sleep, and flopped back down onto my comfy pillows and dozed off again.

About an hour later, I re-woke up. It was then that I realized that the storm had passed and it was sunny outside. Now I can keep my promise and tell what I do when it's nice outside.

I jumped out of bed and thrust the already-open windows open even wider, and I basked in the sunlight. I didn't care if the people down on the street saw me when I was un-presentable, but this was he first sunny day in about three months, and it was all mine!

I quickly threw on a simple dress and blouse and pulled up the loose floorboard at the foot of my bed. I know this is pretty typical, but I needed a little space just for myself that no one could know about nor criticize. Well, this was it. I pulled out Pride and Prejudice, my drawing pad, and pencils, tossed them into a bag and half skipped downstairs.

Mother stared at me in wonder. She had been kind enough to let me sleep in today, for which I was grateful. "Good morning!" I said cheerily.

"Good morning, Bella," Mother said, still not quite sure what to make of my happy mood. Philip continued to read the newspaper.

"Stocks are down today," he said blandly.

I grabbed a muffin and tossed it a little way into the air so I could catch it, pulled some grapes off a platter, and quickly and smoothly pulled a napkin out from underneath the silverware. "I think I'm going to take a walk," I said as I wrapped my rations in the napkin and placed it in my satchel.

"Well—well be back by three! You have a tea to go to for Angela Weber at four thirty!" Mother called after me, but I was out the door and on my way.

I went to the park and walked at a fast pace along the stream of melting snow. Even though it went into the woods, and I kept following it, until I reached a muddy pool beneath a waterfall. I would've chosen this spot to stay, but I knew that many people knew about this waterfall, so they would be in and out disturbing my peace and quiet I so longed for.

Beside the waterfall there was a little curtain of ivy. I brushed it aside and walked along in the serenity of nature, watching, listening, absorbing the solitude. Finally, I reached my destination: a small clearing that was a temple unto the clear blue skies I loved-- minus the cherubs.

There were only two things different with this clearing since I'd been here last: one, it green rather than white, and two, I had been alone. As I reached the clearing, someone else did too, but from the other side of it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: _The Sun is Gold_ By Edward

"Edward?" Bella asked me in surprise as both she and I emerged from opposite sides of the clearing.

"Bella! What are you doing here?" I asked. Never thought I'd run into her _here_.

"Well-- you see…well-- it was such a beautiful day that I thought--" She couldn't make up her mind what to say.

"Thought that you wanted to spend some time to yourself outside?" I finished her sentence.

"Yes," she said, surprised yet again that I knew what she was thinking. "You, too?"

"Yes." There was no point in staying. She wanted to have some time to herself, I'd find another place to do the same. "Well, I won't trouble you further," I said, trying to close the conversation and make the fact that we were alone and in private not awkward.

"You don't have to go. I'll go. There are plenty of places around here to read and draw…" she said, trying to make amends.

"No, wouldn't want to inconvenience you," I consoled.

Today was a day of surprises: Bella sighed and smiled at me. At least she wasn't being as cold to me as she usually was. "I have an idea: there's plenty of room for both of us. Why don't we just both stay here and just… i don't know... maybe become more acquainted?"

I smiled, "Why not?" I said. We both nervously chuckled to ourselves, like letting out something that has been bottled up for a very long time, ten years, in fact: awkwardness. It's like Bella changed with the skies. She went from dim, calm, bubbling beneath the surface, to bright and pleasant, outgoing and full of energy. The thought_ Who are you and what have you done with Bella Swan?_ crossed my mind, however, I didn't voice it.

We found a spot of tall grass, and it was slightly damp. We sat down and she leaned against a tree, and began to read _Pride and Prejudice_. I shouldn't have been surprised, but for some reason I was. She did seem like the type who liked to read a lot, but I guess I'd just never really thought about it. I observed her: slender, simple brown hair, but it was wild and energetic nonetheless. The wind caressed it, and a scent of freesia blew my direction. I inhaled deeply, and sighed. Her hand barely tickled her cheek as it swept her hair behind her ear, and she looked up from her book. I quickly looked down, but too late, she had seen me watching her. I could hear her suppress a chuckle as I avoided her eyes. When I thought it was safe to look up, I 

glanced in her direction. She was staring at me again. She, however did not avert her eyes from me. "You're staring at me again."

"You were staring at me," she replied in retort. A blossom fell from the tree and landed on her wrist. She held it in the palm of her hand lightly and delicately, but as if it were all she had to hold on to. She rested her eyes on it, and twirled it between her fingers. She sighed as her eyes went back to her own realm of thought.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked. If this was the woman I was going to marry, I might as well get to know her.

"I'm thinking about how nice it is not to be alone. It was what I wanted, but I realize now that I don't want solitude anymore." She tore her eyes from the blossom, and looked at me. Her eyes were deep and thoughtful. Beautiful. We just sat there, each one trying to figure out the other. "What are you thinking?" she asked me.

"I'm thinking how we're not as different as we thought we were."

She leaned in. It was like a gravitational pull, because I leaned in as well. We were just inches from each other now. I didn't know what her attraction was for me, and from the look on her face, I could tell she was fighting the impulse to keep leaning in. Again, to my surprise, she smiled, jumped up, and started running away from me, laughing and smiling all the time. "Catch me if you can!" she called tauntingly but teasingly.

A smile broke on my face as I leaped up and half-stumbled after her. She ran through the woods, laughing all the way, and I ran after her. Then I lost sight of her. "Bella?" I turned around and looked in various different directions. I heard a sort-of suppressed giggle, and I looked behind me. I saw a white blouse peeking out from behind an old and knarled tree. I went around the tree, with one hand leaning on it.

Bella was there, looking innocently up into me. It was seductive, but I could tell she didn't know it. I was pulled towards her. Sunny days were my kind of day, and hers, too, apparently.

Our lips met, and I wrapped my arms around her, and she wrapped hers around me. I pulled her towards me with such force I was afraid of crushing her, but she pulled me closer with just the same amount of almost gravitational pull. It was ecstasy, and we couldn't stop. She was warm, and I could feel her heart beat increase with every time we crushed against each other. I could feel mine get faster, too. Where was all this coming from? A day ago, I hadn't held any special feelings for Bella Swan, except for that of curiosity. But that had changed. The sun had went from yellow, to gold, and the skies from pale blue, to an intensity of color and shimmer so profound it was amazing. This is all figuratively speaking of course.

For the first time in minutes, our lips parted and I held her even closer, in a tight embrace. I heard her gasp and her arms on me loosened. "Edward," she whispered. It was a whisper of fear.

I stepped away from her and turned to follow her wide-eyed gaze. She seemed to be staring between two tall trees. I saw nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: _Teas and Tenements_ By Bella

Kissing Edward was the most thrilling thing I had ever done. It captured the unexpected romance of it all. Not to mention the passion. The kiss was more than a kiss. It was a series of kisses that occurred without breaks in between each one. I couldn't figure out what my thinking process was, as I inevitably, deeply, and exquisitely fell in love with him. The words "unconditionally" and "irrevocably" came to mind as well. Funny, how I had never appreciated him for what he was, and as I did, I realize that he could possibly be the most deeply enchanting person I knew. How could I have possibly gotten along with him but without him all these years?

"_What are you thinking?"_

"_I'm thinking how we're not as different as we thought we were."_

The way he said that was so earnest, and not seductive at all. It was just what started the reactions that I could not explain. It was like I was magnetically attracted to him, like my heart knew, but my mind was stubborn.

My first kiss was perfect. No doubt about it. Neither of us could control it, it just happened. But what happened after that is what really shook me up.

We were leaning against an old tree, holding each other as close as we could possibly could, when I opened my eyes. I had rested them on something, I don't remember what, when I saw motion out of the corner of my eye. They flickered to a spot between two majestic trees. The tree blossom in my hand spiraled to the ground. I saw a tall figure, very muscular, glittering like the most beautifully cut diamond, and I felt that same, deep, penetrating stare. _The person on the roof last night._ It was all I could think about, even with Edward by my side. Although in retrospect, the stare was not malicious. Just thoughtful. It was strange how I could sense all this, but I could.

"There's nothing there." Edward had said.

"There was a man there, and I've seen him before…" my voice trailed off.

"You're safe with me," Edward murmured. He bent down and picked up the blossom off the ground. He let it rest in my hair, the white and pale pink contrasting with the brown, yet soothing. Slightly comforted, but not completely convinced that what I saw hadn't really been there, I caressed his face, trying to forget my disturbance.

We walked back to the clearing, and I split my grapes and muffin with him. The sun crept higher and higher in the sky, and then it began to sink back down after it reached its climax. We were together the whole time.

Eventually, when the sun got low enough in the early spring horizon, Edward had the sense to check his pocket watch. He pulled it out of his vest pocket: "Four o'clock." He said.

I sat bolt straight up. "I have to go!" I said in a hurried voice. "Oh, Mother's going to kill me!" I threw my things back in my satchel and headed for my entrance to the clearing. I almost forgot to fill Edward in on what was going on though, so I went back to him for a moment. "IhavetogotoateaforAngelaWeber," I breathed, "andIwassupposedtobebackbythreebutI'mnot, so," I breathed again, "Mother's going to be furious with me." I kissed him one last time, thoroughly procrastinating the fact that I had to leave heaven for some social gathering.

I ran all the way home. As I predicted, Mother was fuming. "Where _have_ _you been_?" the last three words were heavily emphasized.

"I'm sorry Mother, but it was such a beautiful day that I lost track of the time." I began to skip stairs up to my room.

"Isabella!" I ignored her. "ISABELLA!" I appeared at the landing to the third floor and leaned over the rail so as to see her. Her face was red with fury and scorn.

"Mother, its fine! I'll rush, and we'll be fashionably ten minutes late, I promise!" I tried to sooth her, but to no avail. She went from the first stair well huffing and puffing and fuming.

With that, I dressed hurriedly in a fresh corset and baby blue dress. We were, indeed, fashionably ten minutes late.

The Next Day

The tea was boring. All the young socialite princesses and their over-bearing mothers, primly dressed and eating "dainty little cucumber sandwiches" made me think that this system was even more screwed up than I had thought before. The atmosphere was so strained, not to mention so unreal. Just to shake things up a bit, I tripped while walking down the stairs into the Grand Hyatt. It wasn't a grand stumble, and I didn't fall down the rest of the way. I just, you know, "tripped."

Today was not a sunny day like yesterday had been. I did not have the same energy as I did twenty four hours ago, but still, something had been awakened in me. I know that sounds quite cliche, but it's true. I decided that I would pay a visit to Edward, then "take a walk" down Turner Street.

"Hello, is Edward Masen in?" I asked as a maid opened the front door. Edward's house was grand and large, with white columns lining the front porch. It was about four stories high, and half the length of the block.

"He is, ma'am. Would you like to come in?"

"Yes, thank you." I stepped across the threshold. The front foyer was magnificent. Edward's father, George Masen, was sitting in a room at the far end of it, eating breakfast.

"Bella! What a pleasant surpise!" he exclaimed.

I gave a graceful little curtsy. "Hello, Mr. Masen, how are you?"

"I'm very well, thank you," he said, as jolly as he ever was. He coughed. "And what brings you here today, my dear Bella?"

"I've come to see Edward."

"Bella!" Edward's cry of slight surprise echoed down the hallway. He stood there, at the base of the stairwell, looking as handsome as ever. He half ran towards me, but a few feet away he stopped dead, just staring at me. His eyes flickered in the direction of his father.

"Hello, Edward."

There was an awkward silence, as Edward stared at me, I stared at him, and George Masen kept looking from one of us to the other. "Perhaps you two would like to take a walk," he said finally catching on. The awkwardness didn't break until when Mr. Masen walked up the stairs and shut the door of one of the rooms. "My dear, would you ever believe who just visited?" we heard him say as he closed the door behind him. Edward took a step towards me.

"I'm sorry my mother couldn't greet you as well, as I'm sure she would," Edward said formally, as a maid entered the foyer, holding his hat and coat, making things unnatural again. "She's feeling a little unwell today."

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that." The maid walked out, leaving us once again, alone.

"Bella, would you like to take a walk?" Edward whispered playfully in my ear.

"Yes." I whispered back, my lips just barely brushing his face. "I want you to meet someone."

"Who?" he asked curiously.

"You'll see." I could tell he was intrigued. "Just walk with me, here."

"Alright, I trust you." He kissed me on the forehead.

So we left the Masen residence.

"What's the matter with your mother?" I asked, making small talk.

"She has a head cold. All the normal symptoms: headache and slight fever, lots of coughing. I think father is starting to come down with it as well."

"Is that what the family doctor said?"

"No, its what I said. I'm studying for medical school, you know."

"Really?" I did not see that coming. "What about the medical field appeals to you?"

"I take pleasure in helping people. It makes me feel like I have a purpose in life. No, I don't mind the blood," he added, somehow sensing that I am repulsed by blood, and the thought of even wanting to be a doctor was a little shocking. Funny how it was like he knew me almost as well as I did. "Where are we going?" he asked me. we were walking down towards the rows upon rows upon rows of tenement houses.

"My father. You would like him. He's very similar to you now that I think about it."

Edward said nothing. He was looking at the squalid tenement houses we passed by. We were getting closer to Turner Street. His eyes said all that he was feeling: pity, horror, shock, a feeling of helplessness.

The other pedestrians stared at us, and Edward held me closer, grasping my hand so tightly it almost hurt. Their stares were stares of envy and scorn, a type of hatred. Fires were built in trashcans along the streets, with people dressed in rags crowded around them. The very streets themselves told the stories of their inhabitants.

I gestured for us to turn into the first tenement house on the corner of Turner and Wallace. It was just as rickety as the rest, without ventilation or plumbing. It was pathetic and inhabitable. We walked up the stairs I knew so well. There were drunks and homeless people sitting in the hallways, which were stained with blood and other colored substances. Everyone had a thick coating of dirt on their skin.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: _Charlie _By Edward

It was heart-wrenching. All the people in those buildings… it was so pathetic. All the squalor in the streets and even in the tenement houses just made me want to help them more. Everything said tragedy.

It was tragic that while we were up on our high horses, worrying about arranged marriages and balls, these people had to worry about so much more that really mattered: sustenance, protection, habitation, staying on top of this dunghill they lived in.

Between the fifth and fourth stories of Bella's father's tenement house, we took a moment to catch our breath. After a minute's rest, we continued up to the top story.

Things were considerably cleaner up here, since less people went up there. Although chunks of plaster scattered the floor, not to mention several bullet casings, and the usual coating of grime, there wasn't any red or yellow coloring to the floor or walls.

At the end of one of the halls, we reached a door with the top left corner missing. "Father?" Bella called as she knocked on the door…which fell open. Literally. "Damn it, just my luck," I could hear Bella swear as she stepped over the debris of the door, and tried to pick it up. Bella was still a mystery to me: reposed, yet wild; reformer, yet rebellious. Not your typical socialite young woman.

"What happened?!" a man in his mid-forties jumped up off of what could have been a comfortable chair. The crash seemed to have disturbed his sleep. He was tall skinny, and disheveled, and did not look well, for he was exceedingly pale, bordering on green. "Bella!" he cried.

Bella ran towards him, abandoning my hand. She rushed into his arms, and he embraced her as a father would a daughter he hadn't seen in awhile. This was the case, actually. He held her at arms length and got a good look at her: "Bella, you look wonderful!"

"Thank you, Father, but you don't look so good," she said with earnest concern.

"Nothing but a cold, everyone's been getting them," he tried to whisk away her fears. "And who is this?" he asked, gesturing towards me.

"Father, this is my fiancée, Edward Masen."

"Pleased to meet you, boy. Bella has mentioned that she was engaged," he looked at Bella meaningfully, "but I never thought she would actually bring you to meet me. You take good care of my daughter, you hear?" he said with a half-teasing, half fatherly concerned attitude.

"Yes, sir," I replied smiling. I liked her father already.

"Won't you sit down?" He was very polite and kind and natural. Perfectly comfortable just being himself. Bella had yet to acquire this quality. I'm sure that if everyone knew her as I did (although it didn't take 

me long to get to know her), they would love her just as much as I do, and I would have some competition.

"Yes, thank you." I sat down on what should have been a sofa. at that moment, a young boy about fourteen or fifteen rushed into the room from the hallway.

"What's happened?" he asked urgently, looking around like a madman. "I heard the crash three floors down!"

"It's alright, Jacob, my door just finally fell in," Charlie said. He turned to us and explained. "It's been threatening to do that for awhile now." He sighed. Then he coughed.

"Father, are you sure you're alright? You really don't look well at all," Bella said with genuine concern.

"I'm fine, Bella. There is nothing wrong with me. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it," he patted her on the cheek, and sat down. Bella did not look convinced, but let the matter drop (Bella POV: _for the present_.).

We chatted for awhile. Nothing particularly important was said. Bella was so thrilled to be with her father. Apparently, Jacob and Bella played together when Bella still lived here, but neither remembered the other. It made me furious that Bella ever lived in such a place, unprotected from almost every kind of threat that was the hardest to fight. I guess I was just being protective of her.

I am in love with Bella Swan.

"Bella," I said, drawing myself out of my thoughts, "would you like to go to the Newton's Ball with me?"

"You _do_ realize that we were already going 'together,' whether we liked it or not?"

"Yes, I know, but I think it would be nice if we wanted to go together, don't you?"

"I don't see why not." Bella's smile was so wide it looked like it looked painful.

Jacob whistled in awe.

Charlie coughed and sputtered a little more. A horseless carriage rumbled by in the streets below. A window shattered in the distance.

"Bella, it has been so good to see you. You have absolutely no idea how much I've missed you around here," Charlie began, "but it's getting dark outside. I don't think you kids want to be around here at night. Things can get very rough."

There was an awkward silence, and Bella again left my arms for her fathers. His dwindling frame looked like it might break in two as she hugged him. "I love you, Father," she whispered feebly, her voice wavering.

"I love you, too, pumpkin." He said. "You need to go."

She reluctantly stepped away from him. "I'll walk them down to the edge of the tenements," Jacob offered.

As we left, I noticed one tear well in her eye, and fall to the ground.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: _Carlisle Cullen_ By Bella

I couldn't help but cry a little. He was my father, and it hurt me so much to see him in that state. I wanted to do something for him… but what? _I have no money, and my parents control the family's finances, so I can't pay for a doctor. I could bring him food, I guess. Every little bit helps. _

_That's what I'll do: I'll bring him food every Saturday. Today was Wednesday, so I'll just pack up a ton of food from the kitchen and run there in the dead of night. Hopefully, most people should be asleep by then, so I won't encounter too much trouble. I'll open the door, drop it inside and leave. No one would ever have to know it was me._

_Then there's the Newton's Ball next Saturday. I'd just have to get home, and then run to Turner Street. It would be a long night._

I continued to scheme in silence as I walked past the familiar neighborhood houses on Tenement Street. If there had been a banana peel, I would've slipped on it because I wasn't paying enough attention where I was going. Thankfully, Edward was.

"Bella, you're going to walk into the lamp post! Watch it!" Edward pulled me out of the well of my thoughts. He also pulled my wrist and I barely missed it.

"Thanks," I said. I smiled at him as reassuringly as I could, but I don't think I pulled it off because he was still looking at me worriedly. Those brilliant green eyes said everything he was thinking.

"There's nothing we can do." He said. He put his arm around my waist as we walked and pulled me closer.

"I know," I lied. This was a pretty easy lie to tell because he already agreed with me. Otherwise, I'm a horrible liar. I put my head on his shoulder. It was just one of those moments where it's hard to stand up alone.

We walked side by side again as we journeyed into the upper districts. The sun was beneath the horizon, the last rays of that day's life just peeking over in one final display of color, its footsteps marked closely by darkness. Edward, always the gentleman, walked me home.

Edward was perfect. I could not imagine a better human being other than perhaps my father. It was a huge stroke of luck that brought him into my life, and an even bigger one that we were engaged to begins with. Here's how that one came about:

_Mother and Philip had been well off at first, but then the war came._

_Philip got drafted, and while he was overseas, my mother's habit of spending and buying became a problem for the first time since she'd married him. Since he could not work, we had to depend entirely on their savings, which slowly but surely dwindled. _

_Then the Masens moved to Chicago. They had moved from New York, and as it turns out, my mother had known Mrs. Masen since childhood. So, as Mother and Mrs. Masen caught up with each other, they found that they had children, Edward and myself, who were the same age. They concocted a plan._

_Edward had long since been without companions, as had I. Our mothers had recognized with sadness that we were not the socialite kind. In an effort to try to bring us out of our own little worlds we had created to survive in the harsh world of social Chicago, they decided that we were going to marry. Crazy, insane, and completely not what I had envisioned at any rate. I guess I'd never thought about marriage before. It always seemed so far off that I never worried about it, not that I worry about it now. At any rate, Mother had three reasons for promising me to Edward: financial (first), social (second), and my own good (third). I always liked how that one came last…. So comforting. _

_The only thing was, I didn't care for him at all. I didn't know him, and I was determined to not like him just to spite my mother. He never cared for me, because I was always so aloof and unwelcoming, although why I should welcome a perfect stranger to be my husband I would never know. But that's past now, and I am in love with Edward Masen._

We were already at the steep steps to my front door. Edward we stood, debating unanimously whether or not to knock. He leaned in, pinning me against the doorframe, but in a good way. I was mesmerized by everything about him: his eyes, his breath, his mouth, his scent, even though he wasn't wearing any cologne he smelled fresh and clean and bright. He leaned even further so our faces were less than an inch apart. "I love you, Bella Swan," he whispered softly into my ear as he kissed my cheek.

"I love—" I started to say, but right then the door started to unlock. We separated like opposite sides of a magnet as the door swung open to reveal the maid. "Mistress has been looking for you," she said innocently. "Your parents, as well, Mr. Masen. They're all in the dining room."

Edward was just as befuddled as I was when we walked into the dining room.

"Bella! Edward! We were looking for you everywhere! It's nice to see you've turned up!" Philip said as he stood up, along with Mr. Masen and another man who looked vaguely familiar. Philip was looking relieved. The stranger and I made eye contact and I knew I recognized him from somewhere. My eyes lingered on him for a moment. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. His features were kind, yet mysterious, like he had many secrets, and at the same time, exquisitely formed and perfect. He moved with inhuman grace and agility.

"Mr. Carol, good evening to you." Edward said politely to Jack. "Mrs. Carol, Mother, Father," he nodded to each as he said their names.

My mother looked disapprovingly at me. "Bella, you know you're late for dinner, and I told you we had a guest coming," she said sternly.

"You did?" I said totally surprised. "I don't recall…."

"Well, I did," she said pointedly. "Go get dressed for dinner, Bella then you may come and join us."

I curtsied a little, then walked out of dining hall with another glance at the stranger who was still watching me with a curious expression. His glance flitted to Edward, and then I could no longer see him as I had left the room.

When I came back down in a fresh blue frock, Edward was already seated and everyone had been waiting on me. I felt slightly guilty, although I could not be blamed as I really had no forewarning of a dinner guest. The four men stood as I entered. I couldn't help but look at the stranger again. "Bella," Philip began, "this is Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He's a new doctor at the hospital that Mr. Masen helped to finance."

"Pleasure to meet you, Bella," he said in an unknowingly seductive voice. I was intrigued, but untrusting of this man.

"It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Dr. Cullen," I said guardedly.

Edward pulled out a chair for me and helped me seat myself. Dinner finally started. Judging by Edward's expression, he was just as lost as I was.

"So where did you reside before you came to Chicago?" Mrs. Masen asked, spearing the lettuce in her salad with a fork. She was staring at him just as intently as I.

"I moved here from Boston. I had lived there for many years, and I decided it was time to see what was further west," he said honestly. He glanced at me again, curious as to why I was staring at him. I was certain I'd seen his face somewhere before.

Then it clicked. He had the same shape as the man on the roof, and the same features, same pale beauty as the creature that had rushed past the trees in the park yesterday. "How long have you been here?" I asked curiously, but it was obvious on my face that I had a certain point to the question.

"I got here two nights ago." He said this looking straight at me, significantly. I couldn't think why he was acting this way to me only. "My position at the hospital was secured by mail before I came," he explained to the others.

So he got here and decided to climb my roof, did he and scare me half to death? What the hell….

Oh no…. when I passed out, I was in front of the window, so how did I get back to my bed? I didn't recall being lifted or anything between the window and the sunny day.

After dinner was over, the men went into game room (which included a pool table and multiple ashtrays) to smoke and talk politics (men are boring. Edward is the one exception). I was very curious to talk to Dr. Cullen: I was convinced he was the mysterious humanlike creature at my window and in the woods. Those previous encounters, I had never thought about if the creature was human or not, but in retrospect, it looked human, but acted with such grace, agility, and terrifying speed and strength that it convinced me otherwise. We females, with our tea and coffee, retired to the parlor, decorated with frills and knick-knacks that were very unnecessary.

I had to talk to Dr. Cullen alone.


	8. Chapter 8

_Eight Ball and Kisses _By Edward

This was totally catching me off my guard. I vaguely remembered that I was in fact supposed to dine at Bella's house today, but it slipped my mind when Bella took me to her fathers flat. It was very lucky that I had dropped her off at her house while our parents were there.

What caught me even more off guard was that Father had the total witlessness, stupidity, and unintentional audacity to bring an uninvited and unexpected guest. I had never actually met Dr. Cullen, but I had heard father speak of him highly, and knew he was coming to Chicago soon.

But what really surprised me was Bella's reaction to Dr. Cullen. She tensed up and did not take her eyes off him, but it was not because she was attracted to him, but because she knew something and I could see the wheels turning.

I would have to talk to her about it sometime soon.

When the men went to the game room, I watched Bella go off reluctantly with the other women. This was obviously not her cup of tea.

"Edward? I will play you in some pool if you like," Dr. Cullen said to me, bringing me out of my train of thought.

"A-alright," I stammered, not expecting such an invitation. I removed my

Father and Jack lit their cigars, while Dr. Cullen and I removed our jackets to play. Father coughed and sputtered as he drew in his cigar, rather the same way Charlie had. These colds were quite widespread.

Dr. Cullen noticed that I was looking at my father with worry. "Its just a cold," he said in a low voice, so as not to interrupt the patriarchs' conversation. He looked hardly older than myself. I noticed how dark his eyes were: a very dark brown, a very close shade to black. It was startlingly vivid. He arranged the triangle solid and striped pool balls, and rubbed chalk on his queue.

"That's what I keep telling myself, but I'm starting to worry if it might be something more…" my voice trailed off. He took aim and broke the triangle perfectly, sending three solids into various pockets. My jaw dropped

"You like the medical field?" Carlisle asked in surprise.

I nodded, realizing how ridiculous I must have looked, and clamped my mouth shut.

"If you ever need any help when you go off to school, let me know," he offered. "I'm solids."

"Thank you, Dr. Cullen," I said gratefully.

"Call me Carlisle." He shot again, missing, but it was obvious he missed on purpose. "Your turn."

And I thought I had been good at pool. I took aim, shot, and knocked in the eight ball, much to my dismay. I frowned, and Carlisle pulled it back out, setting it exactly where it had been before, and said, "You didn't knock in the eight ball."

"But I di—y-yes, of course not," I stammered, catching on.

He took aim again, and knocked in another one, and the next time he missed again, on purpose. It was obvious this was child-play to him. Father coughed and sputtered again, hacking and huffing and puffing. I felt so sorry for him. I cast another worried glance in his direction, and I could tell Carlisle had noticed again, but he thankfully said nothing. It was no use repeating topics. I took a shot, and knocked in my first two.

"Good shot," Carlisle said, complimenting me earnestly, but making small talk at the same time. I hardly noticed I was so deep in thought, and I forgot to thank him. "So what else do you enjoy doing other than diagnosis?" he asked curiously.

"Being outside, and helping people, I guess."

"Good traits," he said, nodding. "You're a good man, Edward."

"Thank you, sir," I replied gratefully.

Not much else happened that evening worth noting. The rest of the week passed in boredom. I couldn't help but let my mind wander to the tenement housing on Turner Street, couldn't help but be sad that others lived that way. Whenever Bella was with me, I couldn't stop thinking about her, and even when she wasn't with me, I was thinking about her in the Tenement houses. I couldn't imagine my Bella living in such squalid conditions.

On Friday, we went to the clearing again, as there was another sunny day. Bella was even happier than before, because we could spend more time together this time.

"Well, Bells? What do you want to do today?" I asked her, smiling. The day was warm and inviting. One couldn't help but be happy on a day like this.

"Lets just lay here and talk," she said. She laid her head on my shoulder and we stared into the sky as my arm held her close. "What do you think of Dr. Cullen?" she asked, trying to not make her curiosity obvious.

"I think he's a very nice person, but I don't know what to make of him exactly. He is incredibly good at pool, though."

"You played him? Who won?"

"He did. He near about killed me."

She laughed softly. "I think there's something strange about him."

"What's on your mind?" She was definitely beating around the bush about something.

"You may or may not believe this, but I think he's the person I saw in the woods last time we came here, when we were against the tree."

I laughed, looking at her to see if she was too, but she wasn't. Her face was quite serious. "You actually believe that?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes," she said defiantly, "I do. I'm convinced of it. He's not normal."

"I have to agree with you there. There is something strange about him." Bella was silent. She was thinking. "What are you thinking about?" I asked her.

"I was thinking about Dr. Cullen. I want to know what he's hiding," she said sincerely. I guess she was right. He did look like he was hiding something. "But I don't want to think about him anymore," she said, looking at me.

She rolled over while my arm still encircled her, and leaned in. We were just millimeters from each other, and she stopped and said one word: "Edward." I couldn't figure out how she kept this calm when my heart was fluttering, but it was only then did I realize that I could feel hers fluttering too, skipping beats and the rate increasing. She kissed me and I kissed her, and then we were inseparable, arms wrapped around each other in sweet bliss. She pulled me even closer into her, if that was even possible, and the kiss became more passionate, if that was even possible. We stopped to take a breath, and I could tell she was just as happily dazed as I was. I pulled her close, and my hand that was around her waist traveled down along her side until it reached the crook of her knee. I hooked her leg and rolled her over onto my chest. We just stayed like that for an infinitely long moment, staring at each others eyes. Her hair fell down the side of her head, and her pale skin glowed in the shadow her hair cast across her face. The sun was low in the sky.


	9. Chapter 9

_A Day of Surprises_ By Bella

"I love you," I whispered to Edward, whose face was directly under mine.

"I'm glad," he said, and his smile a crooked smile that was irresistible. "That's the first time you said that to me, you know."

"I know." I leaned in, and our lips met again, and his parted some and mine did too. We held each other so close it hurt, but it was a good kind of pain, the kind that often came with the sweetest love. And that's what we had. He swung me over and then he was hovering over me.

"I love you, too," he said, looking me in the eyes. He leaned in so our noses touched.

"I know," I whispered again. He leaned in and kissed my neck, slowly progressing to my forehead, then my nose, then my cheek, and finally my mouth. I closed my eyes in perfect ecstasy of the moment. I couldn't ask for more in life right then. He pressed himself on me and I pulled him closer. Again, he pressed his perfect lips into mine, and I couldn't have been happier. After about ten minutes of this, he slid off me and we just lay there, parallel to each other, breathing the same, thinking the same, practically being the same person.

And that was my last happy day for awhile.

I walked through the front door of my house, flushed from my last kiss from Edward on the doorstep. I leaned against the wall and chuckled to myself happily, and started skipping stairs up to my room humming some merry tune I was making up as I went, when my mother stopped me on the second floor. "Darling," she said with that smile that meant she was trying to be pleasant and serious at the same time, usually not a good thing for me, "Your father and I would like a word with you."

"Step-father," I corrected. Her smile became even more strained and fake.

I walked into Philip's study room, and he turned around in his chair to face us. Mother took her seat at his side, caressing his hand on the arm of his chair. "Bella, you need to marry Edward as soon as possible," he said calmly.

I smiled in response, a reaction he did not expect. "You're not upset," he stated in slight confusion.

"Not at all," I could feel my smile widening painfully. This actually made my last happy day (although I did not know it was my last) even better. I turned and walked out the door, hoping to leave them in awe. I did, but then I question popped into my head, so I poked my head back in the doorway. They were still letting the surprise sink in. "Just out of curiosity, why so soon?"

Mother and Philip looked at each other nervously. "Well," his voice trailed off.

"Dear, she's old enough to understand about matters like these," Mother encouraged. "She'll find out sooner or later."

"I suppose you're right," he said sighing. "Bella, your mother is going to have a child."

I dropped whatever I was holding at the time, (I think it was my hat and handbag). I also dropped my jaw. Pregnant? My mother was _pregnant_? I'm going to be an older sister?

I finally found my voice. "So how does Mother being _pregnant_ relate to kicking the older sibling out of the house? Not that I'm not happy about it or anything," I added rudely. I was frustrated with my mother, that she would even be willing to do this to me, whether or not I was happy to do it.

"We seem to be in a bit of financial distress," Philip said as Mother glowered at me. My jaw dropped again, but I closed it more quickly this time. "We can't afford two children. You're old enough to leave the nest. And why aren't you so upset about marrying Edward on such short notice?"

"Let's just say that I'm not the only one who thinks that I'd be better off with him rather than you and Mother," I growled. "I actually like _him_!" I couldn't help but be mad, because my own mother was getting rid of me, no matter what she called it. I loved her dearly, but I never thought she would stoop to that level. Phil looked at me apologetically, and Mother's face hardened. I knew that the cut I had given went deep. "Mother, how can you do this?" I felt the tears coming, and I rushed out of the room, running up the last two sets of stairs, skipping two at a time, to my room. I slammed the door shut and fell on my bed sobbing. I cried myself to sleep that night, and I didn't have supper.

I woke up the next morning feeling the kind of physical exhaustion one usually feels after crying so much. I got up, still dressed in yesterday's dress, and went to the window, pulling back the curtains. This dismal and cloudy day wasn't doing anything to help me forget my troubles. I stood there for eternity, or so it felt, just thinking, crying silently. A knock on the door pulled me out of my sad trance.

"Mistress? There's breakfast on the table when you're ready," the maid called. I did not answer. She knocked again, "Mistress?" she called again, waiting, and I heard her footsteps fade. I went to my closet and changed into fresh garments, and went downstairs. Mother was sitting at Philip's right, who was at the head of the table. Mother's eyes were red with crying and lack of sleep, and Philip had purple circles under his eyes. I sat down on Philip's left.

"When is the wedding?" I asked, trying to start a conversation that was hopelessly awkward and tense.

"In a week," Philip replied. Mother's lip quavered.

I got up, not even touching my grapefruit, and half threw my napkin on the seat. "I'm going out," I simply said. "I will be back by five." I knew my mother would've said something about being back early so we could go to the Newton's Ball that evening.

I went to the foyer and grabbed my cloak of f its hook. I left the house, shutting the door a little harder than was necessary, I guess.

I set off for my clearing in the park at a fast pace, and got there more quickly than usual. I sat under that tree, and tears just streamed down my face, but I was determined to keep breathing normally. So determined that at some points I forgot to breathe, and then I would have to take a deep breath that ended in a sob, but I tried to control it. My eyes were focusing on a point in midair, and tears clouded 

them, so I could not see any detail about the clearing even if I wanted to. So, when the footsteps came, and I could see vague motion of a tall figure coming nearer, I didn't look up to see who it was. I already knew.

"I heard what happened. I went by your home to see how you were holding up, but they all said you'd left."

"House," was al I could manage to say, correcting him. "Why? Why me, Lord? What have I done to deserve my mother's rejection?" I whispered, looking to the skies, to whatever was up there, listening. Edward put his arm around me, and pulled me close, comforting me. The tears came in sudden bursts now, and I let go of my control on my breathing. I sobbed into his shoulder, soaking it with salty tears, and he hugged me closely. A drop of moisture hitting my forehead told me he was crying with me. We sat there for all eternity, saying nothing with our mouths, but saying everything with our silence. Although this only affected him, because I was marrying him, and not that his mother abandoned him or anything, he cried because of the sorrow he felt for me, and that, more than anything proved his love for me. This is what really comforted me, not just his arms around me, or his shoulder for crying on.

Five o'clock came, and Edward again escorted me home, so I could get ready for the Newton's Ball. Although everybody already knew we were engaged, it was supposed to be somewhat secret, so Edward's father would announce that, and then that the wedding would be in a week.


	10. Chapter 10

_A Day of Surprises _Continued by Bella

Elizabeth, the maid, helped me get into my corset, and I felt like I couldn't breathe, not that I didn't already feel like that due to a combination of my passion for Edward and the rush of events that had just recently flashed by in my life. It cinched my waist so tiny I could put both my hands around it and still have my fingers touching. It wasn't a horrible ruffled rag, but it wasn't my kind of clothing anyway, despite its elegant simplicity. In my mind, there is a healthy balance of elegance and comfort. This was at one end of the extreme.

I put on my foundation and my rouge, not that I needed it. My face was already blotchy from crying, but I guess the point of make-up was to even out the tones of red and deep, doleful crimson. My simple hair was no longer simple, but a mass of ringlet curls done up in some sort of a drape over the back of my head, with strands of pearls weaving in and out, and a silver comb on one side.

My dress was long and pale blue, and it came way off the shoulders exposing more skin than I was comfortable with, but I guess since I would be married in a week, why the hell not?

I was ready to go. In a large pocket cleverly disguised in the folds of my long conical skirt, I stuffed a large handkerchief. My plan was to stuff the cloth with delicious food from the ball, and then get Edward to walk with me down there at midnight. As I left my room, Elizabeth handed me my long velvet cloak, black as midnight, and heavy as lead. I walked down the long flights of stairs. My mother and step-father were already waiting for me, staring at opposite walls, not looking at anyone. We all got into the buggy, and our driver pulled away.

We pulled up to the Newton's residence. Mr. Newton had made his fortune in department stores, and his wife was making use of that fortune extravagantly. This was the only reason she and Mother were friends. Their house had numerous marble columns, and torches were everywhere, but instead of flame, there was the new electric light, becoming more and more common in households recently. The large round bulbs gleamed golden, and moths flickered around them. There were footmen who opened the buggy doors for us and helped us down. Once in the large ballroom, we were amazed to see how high the ceilings were, with paintings similar to the one on my ceiling, and gold leafing everywhere. The chamber music came from the west corner of the room, and Mr. and Mrs. Newton stood just inside the door so as to welcome their guests. Their son, Michael, stood next to them.

"Isabella," he said as he took my hand and kissed it, "May I have this dance?"

Not wanting to be rude, but dreading it, I said, "Yes, you may."

He led me to the middle of the dance floor. He took my right hand in his, and took my waist with his right hand, my left hand on his shoulder. We began waltzing around the room. "I haven't seen you in awhile, Bella," he said pointedly.

"Nor I, you, Michael," I replied simply.

"You know how I feel about you."

"I'm sorry, Michael, I never have been able to and still cannot return those feelings. I will always think of you as a friend," I knew this was coming. "I'm engaged! And I'm happy with it!" I hissed in his ear.

He became stiff at once. "How are you liking the weather Isabella?" he asked jovially, suddenly changing his tone.

"Fine," I mumbled, realizing that he was putting on a show, as we swirled past Eric, another jealous acquaintance, and Jessica, who was looking wistfully at Michael, and glaring at me.

We passed them. "Do you think you ever could return those feelings?" he looked at me hopefully. I noticed how his hand slid farther down my waist and was now touching the top of my skirt.

"Michael—"

"Do you?" his hand was on my hip now, too close to areas I wished to remain unscathed, thank you very much. I picked up his hand and moved it back to its proper place.

"Does that answer your question? Michael, I can never love you like that, and the more you try to force me to, the more love I am losing for you as a friend," his face fell but he pulled me closer, too close for comfort. Just then Jessica walked by pointedly. "Michael, stop it—Jessica!" I cried happily, noticing her, "I do believe Michael has been wanting to dance with you all evening! Won't you humor him? I simply must take a breather!" I pretended to be out of breath. Jessica looked like she had died and gone to heaven, and gladly took my place. They began waltzing away with Jessica looking at Michael happily and Michael looking at me sadly. I walked off.

Just then, the Masens arrived, bringing Dr. Cullen with them. Trying to introduce him into Chicago society, no doubt. Edward and I made eye contact as they stopped to greet the hosts. In mere moments, he was at my side spinning me around as the music got faster and slower and that's all we did. Despite all the trauma around us, we could only focus on each other in rhythm with the music. Before we knew it, it was time for Edward Masen Sr. to make the announcement.

Edward took me by the arm and we made our way through the ocean of people to the front, where Mr. Masen stood above everyone else on the grand staircase. He began, "Ladies and gentlemen! I have some announcements to make.

"Ever since our Edward was just a baby, we have hoped that he would find happiness in whatever he chose to pursue. When he was just a boy, he wanted to be an aviator, and then he wished to be a concert pianist when he was twelve, but now, my son has decided to pursue a medical profession. Please congratulate my son Edward Masen on his acceptance into University of Chicago Medical School!"

The guests applauded loudly, and some of Edward's close friends whistled in congratulations. Even I didn't know that he had been accepted, so that was a pleasant surprise.

"But now—" Edward's father began again, signaling the crowd to be quiet, "he has also decided to pursue something else, and I do say he has achieved it. Although it was supposed to be a secret, but I suspect you all know it anyway, Edward has won the heart of Bella Swan, and they are to be married next week!"

The crowd went wild with applause this time, and the whistles were even louder, Edward and I stepped up onto the staircase and gave each other a peck on the lips just to please everyone. Well, almost everyone. Eric and Michael looked ready to kill. Mother and Philip clapped emotionlessly.

"And because we have practically no time to send out invitations, I'm inviting you all to the wedding here and now!" Edward's father continued. I daresay he'd had a little too much to drink. Everyone started laughing.

The rest of the evening was spent thanking people who congratulated us. Even Michael had the manners to come up and offer his congratulations, he said that some matter of business called him away and he would not be able to attend the wedding, however. I wonder why….

While we were dancing the night away, I filled Edward in on my plan. He was more than happy to oblige me, but warned me that this might be a little dangerous. I told him I didn't care, because it was my father and he needed me.

At a quarter till twelve, Edward went to wait for me outside the servants entrance to the grounds. I was to get the food and get out of there.

But then I saw Dr. Cullen look both ways before exiting through a door on the side of the ballroom. Alone.

Curiosity overwhelmed me, and I followed him, wondering where he was going, alone. Behind the door was a dark staircase, and at the top of the stairs, there was another door, left slightly ajar. I peeked through it, careful not to touch it, and I saw by the warm light of the fire that the room was the library, and the figure of Mrs. Masen was sitting down in front of it. Dr. Cullen was standing in front of her, between her and the fireplace.

"You wished to see me?" he asked, holding forward a folded note, then tossing it in the fire.

"Your eyes are black, today." She said significantly.

"Eyes cannot change color."

"Come now, Carlisle, lets have no pretenses. I know what you are. I have met them before in the streets of New York. I fell in love with one once."

"You know what I am?" he repeated disbelievingly. I looked at him through the crack, and I saw his eyes flicker towards me. I pang of fear swept through my body and I rushed down the stairs like wind, and just as silently as I could, but I got the impression that he could still hear me. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, breathing fast and hard. The clock struck twelve, and I suddenly remembered 

Edward was waiting for me. I ran to the buffet, and filled the handkerchief with as many sweets and fruits nuts as I could, and rushed out the servants entrance to the room.

"Sorry I'm late," I told Edward as he looked at me curiously when I stopped to catch my breath. "I got sidetracked."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: _The Spanish Influenza_ by Edward

I checked my pocket-watch as Bella came rushing out the back gate, her hands full of a large lumpy floral cloth that smelled like the buffet in the ball room. "Sorry I'm late," she panted. "I got sidetracked."

"What happened?" I asked as we set off briskly into the misty oblivion.

"I saw Carlisle go off alone and I followed him. He met with your mother."

I felt the look of surprise spread across my face. My mother?

"She said he knew what he was," Bella continued, "and that she had known some when she still lived in New York, and that she fell in love with one, and then he saw me." I studied Bella's face, traces of shock and fear still left in her eyes, flickering from one side of the street to another nervously. There were nobody on the streets, and we were alone. The lamps, some electric, some gas, cast their shadows of light on all that was in 10 feet of it, and then pure blackness.

As we continued to Turner Street, the street-lamps became farther and farther apart, and there were people on the streets, surrounding flaming metal barrels, staying warm in the early spring night. They stared at us almost menacingly, and I grabbed Bella's elbow and pulled her closer to me so I could protect her if necessary. I sensed her feeling overprotected, losing her independence I loved her for, and I sensed her annoyance, so I loosened my hold on her arm, but not entirely letting it go. I felt so sorry for the people on the streets, but at the same time, I felt more afraid of them than I ever had been before.

We turned the corner, and walked up the front steps of Charlie's seven-story tenement. We opened the door, which, like Charlie's, was threatening to fall off its hinges. We stepped into a world of chaos.

There were people lying around everywhere, groaning, some delusional, clawing at the air, shouting something through their hacking coughs. Some were coughing blood and others were putting fresh layers of yellow on the walls. Jacob came rushing down the stairs. "Bella! Edward!" he called to us, panic in his eyes. "Come on!" We ran up the stairs after him, trying not to trip on the bodies of the ill, and trying not to hit the people who were trying to help them.

We got up to the fourth story. Jacob led us into an apartment, presumably his, and we saw an old man lying in the only bed in the one room dwelling. "Bella?" he called faintly.

"Billy!" Bella cried as she recognized the old and weathered face of her father's Indian friend. She started to move towards him.

"He's recovering, Bella, be gentle," Jacob said, cautioning her. Bella knelt down by his bedside.

"Billy," she said, trying to maintain her calm voice, "what's going on?"

"Everyone's been sick," he began in a weak voice, but there was still fire in his eyes. "I'm sorry to say that I was the first. Everyone got it from me."

"Everyone?" Bella whispered weakly.

"Everyone except Jacob." Billy nodded.

"Charlie!" she cried and rushed out of the room. I followed at her heels as she skipped the steps two at a time to the seventh floor, not even out of breath when she reached it. she tore through the curtains that had been hung there in the door's stead.

Charlie was there on the floor, sprawled out, eyes shut with pain. "Bella…" he moaned through his agony.

"Edward help me get him to the bed!" Together, and much to my surprise, Bella and I lifted her father and carefully carried him to the bed, laying him down gently. He began hacking and he coughed blood down his front, and Bella backed away, much against her will, for she dearly wanted to help her father.

"Now I'm feeling dizzy…." She said, swaying on the spot, and almost falling. I couldn't help but wonder how I was supposed to take care of two people at once by myself. But nonetheless I rushed to catch Bella, while simultaneously placing a bucket at Charlie's bedside.

"Bella?" I whispered, wondering if she had passed out.

"I'm fine," she said with her eyes closed. "The blood… I can smell it…. horrible…. Need to find another place to breathe.

I carried her to the next room and left her to recuperate.

"Charlie, how long has this been going on?" I asked, trying to find a clean rag and some fresh water. I noticed a jug by the only window in the room, and some rags lying on the floor. I guess that was the best that was available.

"I've been feeling ill for a week, but it's gotten much worse lately," Charlie said weakly. I wet the rag and put it on his forehead. He needed a real doctor. I couldn't take care of this.

"Stay as still as you can, I'll be right back," I told him, and I went into the room where I had left Bella.

She was still pale, almost green with nausea from the smell of blood. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just get very weak when I'm around blood."

"I don't know how you can smell it."

"I just do."

I smiled during the awkward moment that followed, then proceeded with my point. "Bella, Charlie needs a real doctor. I can't handle this, and if I did, I think he would die."

"We can move him to a hospital."

"He's past that stage."

Bella's forehead creased in bitterness and sorrow and thinking. "Dr. Cullen," she said miserably.

"He's the only way we can save Charlie." I said.

"You stay with him, I'll go get Dr. Cullen. You'd know what to do if things got worse before he came." She got up to go, but her legs failed her and she stumbled, and I caught her again.

"Two reasons why I should go get him instead of you: you might be abducted and I'd never se you again, and you are physically incapable of getting to the Newton's and back again. I'm going," I said firmly. Bella looked disappointed, but too weak to oppose me.

"What if he starts coughing up blood again?"

"Go into the next room until it subsides, and don't breathe through your nose until you clean out the bucket. Keep the rag wet and on his forehead. That will help break his fever. That's all we can do for now until we get Carlisle."

She nodded bravely. "Alright. I can do this," she said to herself more than to me.

"That's my girl," I kissed her passionately and left her with Charlie.

I ran as fast as I could down the stairs without tripping, and when I got to the street below, the adrenaline pumped in my veins so fast that I didn't realize I could run this fast. I didn't even look at the people on the side of the street staring at me. I realized that they had been looking at me earlier like I was mad because I had been going into a place full of sickness, and even the streets were safer.

I kept running, despite the fact that I was incredibly thirsty and out of breath. Finally, the lights of the Newton's property came into view, and I could see the guests were leaving. I checked my pocket watch. It was one thirty in the morning. I ran up to the front drive.

"Has Dr. Cullen left yet?" I asked a footman.

"I don't believe so." I hardly waited for his answer. I ran up the entry stairs and into the gigantic ballroom, my eyes wild and searching for the one person who could help Bella's father. I spotted him, talking with Mr. and Mrs. Newton. I walked up trying to breathe normally.

"So sorry to intrude, but I must to speak with Dr. Cullen," I tried to say cheerfully. "If you'll excuse us…" and I swept him off. He didn't resist much, but I left Mr. and Mrs. Newton with rather confused looks on their faces.

"What is it, my boy?" Carlisle asked concernedly. My boy? He didn't look far older than me, so why was he calling me a boy? I let the matter drop from my mind.

"Bella's father is sick. He needs a doctor," I explained, steering him towards the servants entrance. Carlisle looked over his shoulder at Philip.

"He looks perfectly healthy to me." Carlisle said puzzled.

"Philip is Bella's step-father. Her father lives in the tenements."

Comprehension dawned on Carlisle's intelligent face. It immediately furrowed trying to think what to do. "We'll need to drop by my house so I can get my supplies. Tell me what has been going on." He walked briskly but gracefully faster than I did, and I practically had to run as we headed out the door.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: _Survivor_ by Bella

I heard Edwards footsteps fade past the decaying curtains that served in place of a door.

Fear gripped at my heart, as the blood that I knew was imminent would repulse me into the next room, while at the same time, my love for Charlie kept me at his side. In the end, my love won out, as it should have, and I made up my mind to withstand the blood, and just breathe through my nose at the same time.

"Bella-" Charlie started, trying to sit up, but not having the strength. He started coughing.

"Try not to talk, Charlie," I soothed, forcing my lungs to stop contracting and my eyes away from the blood that dripped down his chin and spotted his white teeth. I blindly wiped his chin with another cloth, and re-wet the one on his forehead. He was too hot for any normal, healthy person: _that_ much was obvious. He tried to settle himself in his cot, but soon had to wrench himself up off it and lean over the bucket.

I held my breath again, and picked up the bucket, finding a place to dump it, and went back to him. He lay there, looking greenish, lifeless except for the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. I sat there, watching him, and thinking _What if this is the end of him? What can I take away from his life that I can keep in my memory worth remembering?_ I already knew the answer to that one: love, the only kind of unconditional parental love I had ever felt.

I don't know how long I sat there watching him breathing, sleeping, but sometimes coughing in his sleep. I just watched him, the tears in my eyes doing me the favor of blurring the bloodstains on his shirt, yet blocking his precious face from my eyes. I only blinked them away when I heard rapid footsteps behind me. I felt them drip down my face when I turned around and stood as Edward and Dr. Cullen came half-running, out of breath (at least Edward was), through the door.

Edward stopped short, seeing the tears, "He's not—"

"No," I said, brushing the tears off my cheeks, "he's not dead. I can't help but cry a little, you know."

Edward got defensive. "I know, I know, I was just wondering why you were crying, that's all."

I leaned to try to see Dr. Cullen behind Edward, but he had slipped away and was at my side now, examining a sleeping Charlie. He had slipped by as Edward and I were exchanging greetings, I supposed, but I couldn't understand how I hadn't been aware of him standing next to me.

It's just these little things that make me wonder.

"Bella," Dr. Cullen said sharply, "your father has the Spanish Influenza, and there seems to be a lot of it going around lately."

I tried to breath normally, but I couldn't help but stutter as I spoke, "W-will he l-live?"

"I think he will, Bella, but there's not much I can do at this point, the influenza is so advanced."

I started sobbing uncontrollably, and Edward put his arms around me like a protective wall.

"Bella," he comforted, "He's got a chance. If the fever breaks by morning, he'll live. He's beyond medical help though, now. We've done all we can."

I brushed away the salty moisture from my face and looked away from his charcoal black eyes, the eyes that held the untold secrets I was curious to know. "Bella, you go home now. You'll be safe, everyone is too worried about their loved ones to bother with passing strangers. Edward and I will watch him," Carlisle suggested softly.

"Yes. I will go," I said more to myself than to them. It took all my will power and more to tear me from Charlie's side, but it wouldn't do either of us any good if I stayed. I picked up my things and walked as if dead from the room, and down the stairs.

I walked down the stairs, my feet as heavy as my heart felt, dragging them, trudging. The tears fell, dripping onto my dirty pale blue ballgown. At this point, I was past all caring about myself, past all caring about what my mother would say when she saw the dress in its soiled condition. My only thought was for Charlie, and, in the back of my mind, always, Edward.

Deep in my thoughts, my name echoed distantly. I hardly noticed it and kept walking, seeing but not really watching. I heard my name louder, and I turned my red puffy eyes in the general direction of the previously disembodied voice. Billy was looking right at me from his cot, but Jacob was nowhere in sight.

Billy motioned for me to come in.

I walked slowly, my mind diverted to something other than my father.

"Shut the door, Bella," he said. His eyes flickered from the stairs, to the door, to me.

"What's… going—"I began, but Billy shushed me abruptly.

"Wait," was all he said. His tone and his expression made me freeze in my footsteps, the hairs on the back of my neck tingling nervously.

I don't know how long I stood there, nervously anticipating something I didn't know, but I was expecting it. I don't know how long Billy's eyes were fixed on a spot through the door in the stairwell, but it seemed like forever. After what seemed like hours, but must have been minutes, he beckoned me, fear deep in his aware eyes.

"Do you know what you have brought into this place?" He asked me in a shaky, urgent voice.

"I- what—"

"_Do_ you?" he demanded, grabbing my wrist, his eyes mad with fear.

"I—no, I don't. Billy, what's—"

"You have to get him out of here!" Billy hissed.

"Who?"

"The pale one. The Cold one."

I felt the confusion, the fear, and the excitement on my face. Did I have just enough luck that Billy could tell me the secret of Carlisle Cullen that could explain everything?

"Cold?" I asked.

"Yes! Cold!" he said exasperatedly. "Do you not know what that is?"

I shook my head.

"In my people, there are legends of the Cold ones. You never heard the frightening stories of vampires?"

My heart skipped two beats. I was very afraid now, yet hopelessly addicted to curiosity. "Vampires?" I whispered, the delicious sense of adventure overwhelming me. I wanted to know more. "They don't exist. They are myths."

"That's a lie!" he coughed. He swallowed something.

"So how do you know he is one?"

His labored breathing sped up. He sensed the excitement, too. "We, the Quilette Indians, descended from the wolves, and we are the only mortal enemies of the cold ones."

"Wolves?" I repeated, disbelieving.

"Yes. Wolves," he said firmly.

"How can man descend from wolves?"

He smiled coyly. "Vampires are not the only paranormal creatures on this planet."

Comprehension dawned on my face. "Werewolves?"

He nodded.

I heard Carlisle and Edward's voices on the stairs a few floors up. "I have to go!" I moved quickly toward the door, so I wouldn't be caught by them.

"Bella!" I stopped in the doorway and looked at the sweet old man. "Be careful," he said seriously, "and close the door behind you."

"I will," I smiled. The knowledge flooded me with curiosity, excitement, and a kind of fear that came with adventure. I liked it. I closed the door, careful to not wrench it from the hinges. I could still hear Carlisle and Edward's voices in the stairwell, one or two flights above me.

"What is it Carlisle?" Edward asked.

"I thought I heard… somebody I knew in the hallway, but I suppose I was wrong." He didn't sound like he supposed it though.

"Who?"

"Your fi—nobody. Don't worry about it." I knew he'd heard me.

Those words seemed to be enough for Edward. "So Charlie will recover?"

"Yes, he will. He's a lucky man. Many here will not."

And at that point, I rushed from the building.


	13. Chapter 13

Confrontation _by Bella_

I ran all the way home, my heart pounding from the exertion. The sun peeked up over the trees of the park as I passed, sending its golden rays to illuminate everything and signal life to restart. I was tired, I felt sick from running and crying, but I kept on.

My house loomed up into view, as still as all the others on our street, side by side. I pushed myself the last few yards to the steps, on which I nearly stumbled several times, but this was not on purpose. My body was weak hunger, as I had not eaten since two days previously, and my mind weak from mental exhaustion.

I opened the front door as silently as I could, but the un-greased hinges betrayed me. My mother and step-father ran out of the adjoining parlor. "Bella! We've been so worried!"

My mother rushed ahead of Philip, a sopping wet handkerchief with traces of mascara on it, her eyes bloodshot and swollen, and she wrapped me in a painfully binding embrace. It was several minutes of sobbing on my shoulder before she pushed me away at arms length. "Where have you been?" she shrieked angrily, her face wild, her eyes looking me up and down like a searchlight. "What have you been doing?"

I had seen this coming. She had seen how dirty my dress was.

"Mother, I'm getting married in six days. Get used to not knowing every detail about my life." I pushed by her, and walked up the stairs one at a time with my remaining and fast dwindling energy. I could feel Mother watch me disappear, and almost see her look of mixed anger and confusion and hurt, but I did not look back.

I flopped down on my bed and passed out.

When I came to, the sun was casting shadows on the other side of the street. "Twilight, almost," I said to myself. I stood up to walk to the window again, when a voice from the chair in the corner of my room startled me.

"It's about time you woke up," Edward said, his vivid green eyes soft rather than bright.

"How's Charlie?" I asked, looking at him, not moving.

"He's survived the night."

I ran to his arms and broke down. "He's alright, he's alright!" I kept saying to myself, in eternal thanks to God.

I don't know how long I lay in his arms, silently crying upon his shoulder, while he rocked back in forth. I felt like a little child. He was my protective shield from the world. What would I do without him?

"Edward?" I asked tentatively.

"Yes?"

"What time is it?

"About three in the afternoon," he said after taking out his pocket watch.

"Can we sneak down to the kitchen? I haven't eaten in two days," I explained.

"Why not?" His brow furrowed at the thought.

"Haven't you heard? My life's been very eventful recently."

So we tiptoed to the kitchens. The maids were too busy cooking a sumptuous dinner that they didn't notice when Edward and I went into the kitchens. They were gossiping as usual. After we had grabbed some fruit and bread with butter, we headed for the back door. But then I heard one of the maids say,

"Oh Betsy, did you hear? Miss Bella and Mister Edward are going to get married on _Saturday_!"

"On Saturday? Whatever for? That's awful soon."

"Nobody knows why! I smell a scandal…" Jane said, trying to sound intelligent.

Betsy gasped. "No! It's not possible! Miss Bella wouldn't!"

"Well, I'm not the only one that thinks it's possible. People _you_ think wouldn't do something tend to do _dreadful_ things. Oh, that reminds me, did you hear…?" Jane rattled on.

I saw Edward's expression drop. He began to stand up, but I tugged at his elbow. "Don't!" I hissed, and we scrambled out of the kitchen up to my room, the maids had heard us.

"They were thinking you were _pregnant_, Bella!" Edward cried in retort to my "Don't!" several minutes before.

"You know? That was to be expected I guess. A wedding on such short notice is likely to raise speculation."

"True, but I think it's despicable nonetheless."

"At this point, I couldn't care less."

"Well, you don't."

"Edward," I walked up to him and put my hand on his cheek, and looked him in the eyes, "We'll be married in a week. It doesn't matter. What they say about us, it doesn't affect us unless we allow it to. I've got other things on my mind, I think you should ignore it, too."

"But—" he started to say, but he never finished his sentence.

Before he could finish protesting, I leaned in and kissed him. He pulled me closer to him, and lifted me off my feet into his arms. He carried me over to the bed and set me down, muddy blue dress draping over the side. I had forgotten to change out of it. He straddled me and bent down and kissed me, but this time something different happened.

Edward was on top of me, his weight crushing me pleasantly into the cushions, while my arms wrapped tightly around his neck in a sort of headlock. Our mouths opened, and it became the most passionate kiss yet.

In mere moments, we were one being, one body, one mind, one heart. Our breathing quickened and we felt more strong and powerful together than we had ever felt before, together or alone. A strange pleasant tingling emanated from my spine throughout my body, and traveled to his, like an electric wave.

"Bella, do you want to?" Edward pulled away and spoke, his glittering emerald eyes penetrating my deepest thoughts.

"I don't know," I shook my head, our fixed gazes never faltering. I was literally holding my breath with pleasant suspense. "Do you?"

"Yes, but I think we both know better than to…." His voice trailed off pointedly. We were barely above a whisper now. His hand waved through my hair, fanning it out onto the pillow in one silky brown wave.

"I think you're right."

And here is where I'll let that curtain fall.

Edward and I walked down the stairs, our arms linked. My mother was in the silent treatment stage of her anger, and she did not acknowledge my presence. "Hello, Edward," she managed to say with civility.

"Mrs. Carol, Mr. Carol," Edward nodded in both their directions. He coughed into his sleeve.

Mr. Carol was far too engrossed in the afternoon paper.

"Philip?" I left Edward's arm reluctantly and cautiously.

"Yes, Isabella?" His eyes never left the paper.

"If I'm going to be wed to Mr. Cullen, don't you think we should be looking at arrangements?"

"Why don't you talk to your mother about it? She's the one with the eye for these kinds of things…" His voice trailed off as he found another article to read.

Mother finally looked at me. "We'll look into dresses tomorrow, yours and the bridesmaid's. We'll also send the invitations, even though your tipsy father invited everyone at the party last night, there are simply some _tacky_ people we cannot have attending," she said, glancing over scornfully at her oblivious husband.

"Step-father." I stated hopelessly. She would never learn.

"You'll be married in the Catholic Church," Mother continued as if I'd said nothing, "we'll look into decorations Tuesday, and reception ideas on Wednesday. I've fixed up a guest list, and you might want to look it over." She handed me several pieces of embossed paper that were on the table beside her. "We have to pay extra to have the invitations printed and sent on such short notice. Please return it when you have finished." Her tone was dismissive. I took the hint.

"Thank you," I replied.

"I need to get back. Both Father and Mother are ill, I don't know if I should take them into the hospital or not…"

"Ask Dr. Cullen. He'll know what to do."

"I love you," he kissed me on the forehead out of respect for the present company.

"I love you too," I whispered, as the breeze from the open door gasped into the house, a breath of fresh air. But no air was as sweet as when Edward was nearby. Not to me.

I looked at my mother. "I'll take this upstairs and look it over," her face showed neither emotion nor recognition of the fact I was speaking to her. "I need to go to the library. I'll bring it back down then, so you can do whatever it is you do and have the invitations printed."

Still no reaction or signs of notice on her face.

"You know what? I don't care! Take your damn list!" I thrust the papers in her face, which then floated down to the floor seesawing. She turned the page of her book.

I stormed up the stairs, changed into a normal frock, and grabbed my cloak. It was a simple black cloak that made wooshing noises whenever you walked, and it had a simple black hood. I put on a pair of comfortable walking boots, and walked back down the stairs, making sure every step could be heard from the first floor parlor.

"I'll be back by dinner," I said as I crossed the foyer. "I have a little researching to do."

Philip turned the page of his newspaper as the door slammed shut. Pure silence echoed through the lifeless halls of my house.


End file.
